


The Adventures of Lamen (and how he learned to love Veretian sensibilities)

by barbitone



Series: Captive Prince Fanfiction [5]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Anal Sex, Auguste is a slut, Damen also is a slut but less so, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, M/M, Oral Sex, Voyeurism, disguises, general mischief, schemes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 16:37:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20567498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbitone/pseuds/barbitone
Summary: Akielos and Vere are on the eve of going to war, but they make one last attempt to come to terms during a diplomatic summit at Marlas.The two Kings are itching for a fight, but the Princes have other ideas. Laurent comes up with a plan that will bring their fathers together and avert war for good.Damen startled, turning to look behind him at the open doors that led to the balcony. And then he startled harder when he saw Laurent with his arms folded neatly on the balustrade and his head cocked inquisitively.“Quick,” Laurent said. “Put these on.” He tossed over a bundle of cloth and Damen caught it, dumbstruck.“What is this?”“What does it look like?” Laurent asked, petulantly rolling his eyes. “This is a kidnapping.”“A- a kidnapping?” Damen asked.“In the morning, our fathers will find that their sons have been tragically kidnapped by enemies unknown,” Laurent said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “They’ll have to work together to find us. By the time we return after triumphantly escaping our captors they’ll be fast friends and war will be avoided.”





	The Adventures of Lamen (and how he learned to love Veretian sensibilities)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a weird AU where everything is fun and nothing bad happens. I imagine Auguste caught Uncle making eyes at Laurent when Laurent was like nine, and then went ahead and quietly poisoned Uncle because you know what- fuck that guy.
> 
> I imagine everyone's the age they would be at the beginning of the books. Laurent is 19/20; Damen is 25/26; and Auguste is roughly 30/31

* * *

With Vere and Akielos on the verge of going to war, the royal families, Kastor excluded for the sake of Veretian sensibilities, met at Marlas for one last round of diplomatic talks to see the crisis averted.

Damen had very little hope for the proceedings, though he tried to put on his best face regardless. It was decidedly easier after he caught sight of the two golden Veretian princes. Auguste was all sunshine and bulging muscles straining his laces. Laurent was even more striking, though entirely aloof. Where Auguste was fire, Laurent was ice. Damen wasn’t sure which one he wanted more, and promptly tried to stamp the feeling down.

While Theomedes and Aleron stared at each other in displeasure Auguste smiled widely and practically loped down the steps to offer his arm.

“Greetings, brother of Akielos,” he said.

It was very easy to smile back and take his hand. “Well met, brother of Vere,” Damen said. Maybe there was hope for these negotiations after all.

The younger brother, Laurent, simply inclined his head politely.

After an afternoon of light entertainments the royals and their retinue convened in an airy hall dominated by a giant desk, and King Aleron bid a servant to bring over a locked chest, out of which he pulled a tightly-furled scroll. The opening treaty proposal from Vere.

A herald was called upon to read it, a recitation that lasted over an hour and had King Aleron, strangely, growing increasingly red as it went on. Damen found himself surprised at how perfectly reasonable the terms seemed, and once it was over he said as much.

“Wonderful,” Prince Auguste said. “My brother and I agree.”

“Shall I have a servant fetch a quill?” Prince Laurent asked mildly. Even that simple phrase, falling from his perfectly-shaped mouth, sounded like poetry. 

_ “No,” _ Theomedes said, glowering across the table at his counterpart, Aleron.

Theomedes made a counter proposal. Aleron made a counter counter proposal. As the negotiation went on they seemed to be getting further away from any workable treaty rather than closer. Eventually it devolved into petty name-calling while the courtiers and diplomats tried desperately to prevent an all out fist-fight between their respective kings.

Damen was frustrated and bored. But at least, being seated across the table from the golden princes, he couldn’t fault the view.

* * *

Damen and the princes weren’t always invited to attend the negotiations. Damen thought it might have been because the three of them were far too reasonable, and therefore getting in the way of their fathers’ desire to wage war. He’d never thought of his father as a bloodthirsty man, but he was undeniably getting older and he’d always wanted to leave the legacy of reclaiming Delpha.

Unless Vere was willing to give it up- _ unlikely- _he intended to take it.

Damen tried to speak to him in private but it was no use.

So he found himself at loose ends far too often, wandering the grounds of the beautiful but entirely too decorated Veretian fort. He often ran into Auguste, who was a perfect host. Auguste took him out riding, and invited him to play cards and drink wine in his rooms. Sometimes Laurent joined them, a silent gilded shadow who tended to hide behind his books. Although he didn’t speak very much, within a few days his silences started to feel almost comfortable, if not warm.

It was a great shame that their countries would likely go to war. It made Damen’s heart ache to think that he might have to face these beautiful princes across a battlefield.

He took to speaking with his father after meetings to try and get him to see reason. Such discussions inevitably left him frustrated so he strolled through impeccably manicured Veretian gardens afterwards to try and clear his head.

It was on such an evening that he heard familiar voices drifting through the air and carefully drew closer.

“...your breasts strain against the fabric of your gown, like… like…”

Damen peered through a gap in the hedges to see Auguste pacing a small clearing, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Laurent sat with his back against a tree, holding a pen poised over a piece of parchment. There was a strange expression over Laurent’s face, and it took Damen a minute to realize it was something akin to a smile.

“Like kittens,” Auguste announced. “Wrestling under the blankets.”

“You can’t say that to a woman,” Laurent said, vaguely affronted. “You can’t say that to anyone. The fact that you said it to _ me _indicates you love me not at all.”

“Fine,” Auguste said, waving his hand dismissively. “Scratch it out.”

“As if I’d be caught dead writing that down,” Laurent muttered.

“My heart weeps for you.”

“Your cock weeps for her, you mean.”

“That too,” Auguste said. “Should I say that?”

“No!” Laurent said. “What’s wrong with you? Steer away from the genitals. Say something normal. What are her eyes like?”

“Brown.”

“Try harder.”

Auguste sighed. “I’m no good at this nonsense. You know I do my best work face to face.”

“If that had worked we wouldn’t be doing this. Stop being such a meathead. Her eyes are brown. Like chocolate? Like copper? Like topaz?”

“...like the little frogs that live in that fountain, at Aquitart.”

Damen burst out into laughter and the brothers startled. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, stepping out from behind a hedge.

“Damen!” Auguste said with a bright smile. “You’re perfect!”

“Am I?” Damen asked, fighting back a flush. Auguste was perfect. _ Laurent _was perfect- all long elegant limbs the color of cream and hair like spun gold. Next to the two of them Damen felt like a lumbering bear.

“Yes,” Auguste said. “Help me. I’m trying to write a love letter and Laurent is useless with women.”

“Father is trying to set up a marriage match for Auguste with a Patran princess,” Laurent said dryly. “Auguste is trying to woo her with his sparkling wit.”

“I see,” Damen said. “Can I take a look?”

Laurent shrugged and Damen sat next to him. He leaned closer to get a look at the parchment and their arms pressed together. Laurent stiffened for a moment but didn’t pull away and Damen found himself feeling oddly giddy. He could feel the heat of Laurent’s body through the thick brocade of his jacket.

Once he managed to get ahold of himself, the first thing he noticed was Laurent’s neat handwriting. It was the same handwriting the first treaty had been written in, so much more distinctly elegant than the simple lettering of the official Veretian scribe.

He glanced up to see Laurent staring back at him boldly, as if daring Damen to accuse him of what he’d just figured out. Laurent, perhaps with the help of Auguste, had replaced his father’s initial offer with one of his own. The corners of Damen’s lips quirked up at the discovery that there was much more to the beautiful bookish young man than there first appeared.

He looked back at the letter, and that was when he noticed the second thing- it was written in Akielon.

“A Patran princess, you said?” Damen asked mildly. Based on the description of the woman in question, she sounded an awful lot like Merope- the daughter of the Kyros of Ios, who’d come in her father’s stead while he was recovering from an illness.

“Yes,” Laurent said with that same challenging look.

“Does your Patran princess enjoy Akielon poetry?”

“She’ll enjoy it far better than Auguste’s attempts at romance, I’m sure,” Laurent said with a faint smile.

“There’s a famous poem, by Isagoras,” Damen said.

“Go on, then,” Auguste said.

“There are surely gods who speak to him in steady voices,” Damen said while Laurent bent his golden head down to write the words on his parchment.

“A glance from him drives men to their knees,” Damen continued, and couldn’t help the way his voice dropped a little, the way he leaned against Laurent’s side. “His sigh brings cities to ruin. I wonder if he dreams of surrender, on a bed of white flowers.”

Laurent shivered and stopped writing.

“Or is that the mistaken hope of every would-be conqueror? The world was not made for beauty like his.”

For a long time there was silence. And then-

“I can’t send _ that,” _Auguste said incredulously. “She’ll think I want to marry her!”

Damen let out a startled laugh. Clearly Auguste wasn’t so good at deception as Laurent was. Somehow that made the both of them only more endearing.

“Wouldn’t that be the point, brother?” Laurent asked. His tone was even but his eyes were sparkling with mischief, his cheeks flushed prettily.

“Go away, Damen,” Auguste said. “It turns out you’re no help after all.”

Damen pushed himself up to his feet, warm down to his bones. He caught Laurent looking up at him before his blush darkened and he looked down to the parchment where he’d written part of the poem.

“Let’s go back to the first draft,” Auguste said as Damen walked away.

“I’d rather throw myself off the battlements,” Laurent retorted.

“Don’t be a baby, read it back to me…” 

Damen felt oddly bereft as their voices faded away into nothing.

* * *

The negotiations continued to go poorly.

Damen found himself thinking wistfully of that opening treaty, the generous tax structures, the reasonable terms about the quartering of troops.

Feeling frustrated after another round of fruitless negotiations Damen found his way to the practice field, hoping that hitting something would make him feel better. He’d been at it a while when he heard a sound behind him and turned to see Auguste watching, alone for once.

“Care for a spar?” Auguste called out.

“Is that a good idea?” Damen asked, painfully aware that with the way things were going he’d end up fighting Auguste to the death on the battlefield. The thought of playing at it made him ill.

“Probably not,” Auguste said with a small smile.

“We could wrestle,” Damen offered and the atmosphere lightened

“Don’t Akielons wrestle in the nude?”

“Generally,” Damen said. “But I can make a concession for Veretian sensibilities.”

“How generous,” Auguste said, starting to unlace his jacket.

Damen tried not to stare too openly. He wasn’t a blushing virgin but the sight of Auguste’s pale collarbones through the ‘v’ of the neck of his fine white shirt made him weak. Auguste was always so laced up- all the Veretians were- that this small strip of skin felt somehow illicit.

“What now?” Auguste asked, stepping into the center of the ring.

Damen tried to keep it together as he walked towards him and showed him a few basic moves and counters.

“Let’s try a bout,” Auguste said at last.

“Alright,” Damen said, getting into position. When Auguste bent over his shirt gaped open further and Damen swallowed nervously. He could keep it together. Probably.

Auguste started without warning, catching Damen off guard as he bore him down to the ground.

“Hey!” Damen laughed as he moved to counter the hold. Auguste was older than him, and wily. But Damen was stronger and more experienced. Still, the easy win eluded him, the feeling of Auguste’s powerful body against him proving to be more of a distraction than he’d anticipated.

It didn’t help that he was used to wrestling with nude opponents- the fact that they were both clothed made this feel less like sport and more like bedplay.

Auguste grunted in a truly obscene way when Damen managed to pin him, and then he _ smirked _and twisted in a way Damen hadn’t expected. He grabbed at Damen’s shoulder and pulled and Damen’s chiton fell open. Damen startled and Auguste laughed as he took advantage, flipping them over.

“Cheat,” Damen growled, using his superior strength to turn them again even as his garments fell apart around him, prevented from falling completely by the belt he wore around his waist.

Auguste laughed too and moved to grab a handful of sand, no doubt intending to throw it in Damen’s face. Damen pinned his wrists to the ground to keep him immobile and froze as they shifted together and his thigh ended up between Auguste’s legs. Auguste was panting, grinning and bright-eyed. Auguste was hard.

Damen wasn’t sure what to do about that, about any of this. He was frozen.

“I’m not sure if I should call the guards or give you some privacy,” a dry voice called out.

Damen jerked in shock and turned his head to see Laurent leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a faint smirk playing over his lips. Auguste turned too, completely unconcerned.

“Call the guards. Better yet- come over here and kick him in the face,” he said easily. “I’ll not take this defeat lying down for much longer.”

Damen rolled away, trying to play it off with a laugh as he grabbed at his chiton to pin it closed once more.

“I wouldn’t mind wrestling again,” Auguste said with a smirk as he stood.

“Right,” Damen said, feeling dazed as he watched the brothers walking away.

* * *

Negotiations continued to deteriorate despite Damen’s best efforts. It made him ache to think that they’d been so close at the start, and now war seemed all but certain. He didn’t know what he would do if he had to face Auguste or Laurent in battle. He couldn’t picture raising his sword to either of them. All he could picture was falling to his knees and begging for quarter.

It was an uncomfortable thought, to say the least. He’d never doubted his father before, but he doubted now. No amount of land was worth what his father wanted. Delpha wasn’t worth the bloodshed.

Damen was reading in his rooms late one night when he felt something hard hit the back of his head. He startled, turning to look behind him at the open doors that led to the balcony. And then he startled harder when he saw Laurent with his arms folded neatly on the balustrade and his head cocked inquisitively.

The balcony was on the second story. How-

“Prince Laurent?” Damen asked in shock, standing and walking closer. “Did you throw a rock at me?”

“Quick,” Laurent said. “Put these on.” He tossed over a bundle of cloth and Damen caught it, dumbstruck.

“What?” he asked. “What is this?”

“What does it look like?” Laurent asked, petulantly rolling his eyes. “This is a kidnapping.”

“A- a kidnapping?” Damen asked.

“Hurry up,” a muffled voice said. “You’re not so light as you used to be.”

Damen strode closer and peered over the balcony, laughing when he saw that Laurent was standing on Auguste’s shoulders. That explained one thing, at least.

“In the morning, our fathers will find that their sons have been tragically kidnapped by enemies unknown,” Laurent said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “They’ll have to work together to find us. By the time we return after triumphantly escaping our captors they’ll be fast friends and war will be avoided.”

Damen laughed again at the ridiculous plan. “I don’t think that’ll work.”

“It’ll work,” Laurent said with impossible self-assurance. “And if it doesn’t- at least we’ll get to go have some fun before we’re all forced to slaughter each other.”

“Well,” Damen said slowly. “At least there’s that.”

It was certainly better than anything he’d managed so far, which was precisely nothing.

“Are you coming or not?” Laurent demanded. “It won’t work without you. And I’ve already made a mess of my rooms. I was the only one that put up a fight, of course. Our captors drugged us, but I didn’t drink the wine.”

“This is ridiculous,” Damen said, shaking out the clothes that Laurent had thrown him. It was simple peasant garments, a plain shirt and pants. For a moment he considered that this might be some Veretian trick. And then he thought of Laurent’s elegant handwriting on the initial treaty, of Auguste’s good humor during their wrestling match, of the way they looked at each other fondly when he’d come across them drafting a love letter to Merope.

They wanted peace. He wanted it too. That, and so many other things.

“You’ll have to provide your own boots,” Laurent said. “You’re too hideously large for me find a pair on such short notice.”

Damen laughed again and unpinned his chiton, letting the fabric pool to the ground. Laurent flushed, his eyes widening.

“What is he doing?” Auguste asked.

“Getting naked,” Laurent said.

“Well- don’t _ look!” _came Auguste’s indignant voice.

Laurent smirked and pointedly ran his eyes down Damen’s body while he dressed in peasant garb and pulled on some boots. 

This plan was insane, but no less insane than doing nothing while their fathers goaded each other into war. And it would be nice to get away, to have a moment for himself, for joy, for hope. It would be nice to have an adventure.

“You watch people fuck in public,” Damen said, climbing over the railing of the balcony.

“That’s different,” Auguste said.

“It’s worse,” Damen said, giddy at the excitement of it all.

Laurent climbed down from Auguste’s shoulders with surprising nimbleness, and then Auguste was helping Damen down too and they followed Laurent through the grounds towards a hidden passage that took them outside the fort’s walls.

Between one breath and another Damen found himself giggling like a child as the three of them ran for the treeline before a sentry could spot them. Laurent seemed to know exactly where he was going as he took them down a dark path towards a shack in the woods. Damen felt his heart racing with trepidation in anticipation of some dark plot-

But there were three nondescript horses tethered there, and bags packed with supplies.

“How long have you been planning this?” Damen asked, impressed.

“Since I decided you weren’t a total dullard,” Laurent said. “This morning.”

Damen laughed. “And what was it that I did this morning that changed your opinion of me so?”

“You managed to stop staring at me long enough to suggest a decent compromise on the wool tax.”

Damen knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that come morning his cheeks would be aching from all the laughter.

“If you’re done flirting, perhaps we should ride,” Auguste said, cuffing Laurent affectionately around the back of the head.

They mounted the horses and sped through the forest, and Damen let out a whoop of excitement. This night was definitely taking a sharp turn for the better.

* * *

It was a few hours before midnight when they made it to a small town, stopping some distance away at Laurent’s command.

“Get changed,” Laurent ordered Auguste.

“Turn around,” Auguste said.

“Veretian sensibilities,” Damen said, and turned around. Apparently Laurent was under no such instructions and Damen found himself waiting with poorly-concealed anticipation while he listened to the sounds of rustling fabric and half mumbled orders behind him.

Once the flurry seemed to cease Damen chanced a glance backwards and his mouth fell open in shock.

Auguste- powerful Auguste, Crown Prince of Vere and greatest fighter in the land- was dressed in the gauzy revealing silks of a Veretian pet and his hair was pulled back into a complicated braid. Laurent was holding his face in one hand to keep him turned towards the light of the full moon, and with the other he was lining Auguste’s eyes with kohl.

“You always put on too much,” Auguste muttered.

“Please,” Laurent scoffed. “It brings out your eyes. You love it.” Finished with the kohl, he painted Auguste’s lips, and then dusted some kind of shimmering gold powder over his cheeks. 

“How expensive do you feel tonight?” Laurent asked.

“Very,” Auguste said, winking when he caught Damen staring openly. Damen abruptly closed his mouth. “What do you think, Damen?”

Damen wasn’t sure he was capable of speech.

“Do you think I’m expensive enough for diamonds?”

“Greedy,” Laurent said. “Do I look like I can afford diamonds? I’m a humble merchant. You’ll have to made do with sapphires.” He produced a dangling sapphire earring from his pocket and hung it from Auguste’s ear with the casual air of someone who’d had practice in the task.

Damen swallowed. Heavily.

“If you don’t take better care of me, I’ll find a better, richer, owner,” Auguste pouted.

“You can try,” Laurent said, haughty. “As if you’d find another owner willing to put up with your antics.”

Damen swallowed again.

“Ready?” Laurent asked, turning to Damen with a raised brow.

“Ready for what?” Damen asked faintly.

“To have some fun,” Laurent said with a smirk, and led the way into town.

Damen could only follow as Laurent took them to an inn.

The stableboy was asleep on a crate and Laurent cleared his throat pointedly to make the boy jump.

“Clearly your work ethic is lacking,” Laurent said sharply, wrinkling his nose like the place was beneath him. “But I suppose it’ll have to do. My assistant, Lamen, will see that you stable the horses properly,” Laurent declared. “Won’t you?” he asked, turning to Damen.

“...yes,” Damen said, catching on. 

Laurent tossed the boy a silver coin and strolled into the inn trailed by Auguste while Damen stayed behind. His head was spinning as he helped the boy brush down the horses.

“Your master’s a bitch,” the boy muttered and Damen startled. His _ master. _Laurent.

“He pays well,” Damen said and watched the boy grin and pat his pocket absently.

After they finished, the boy went to bring their bags up to their room and Damen headed into the main part of the inn. He wasn’t quite sure what he expected to see but it wasn’t Laurent sitting in the best seat by the fire. Auguste was sitting beside him, practically draped over his side, while Laurent fed him a morsel of food from his plate. They made an odd but beautiful picture and for a moment Damen imagined what it would be like to have the both of them, at once-

And shook his head to clear it.

“Lamen!” Laurent said imperiously, catching sight of him and waving him over.

Damen went and sat across from him at the table. There was a plate of food in front of him and a pitcher of wine. He ignored the food in favor of the wine, hoping that it would help make any of this make sense.

“You look like you’re about to faint, _ Lamen,” _Auguste said, throwing him a sultry look.

Damen nearly choked on his wine. And then he really did choke on his wine, because there was a foot sliding up his calf. Laurent and Auguste both had equally innocent expressions over their faces.

“If you keep _ doing that,” _Damen croaked out, “I’ll have a heart attack and your ploy will be ruined.”

“We can’t have that,” Laurent murmured and the foot retreated.

Damen drank mostly in peace after that. Laurent was impeccable at maintaining the haughty air of a bitchy merchant who thought this place was beneath him. Auguste, thankfully, was not so good of an actor. As his cheeks started to grow rosy with wine his simpering pet act started to slip towards a more familiar camaraderie.

Damen found himself having the time of his life as Laurent made endless sarcastic comments. The way Auguste was smiling, widely and openly, made Damen’s heart fill with happiness. Throughout the night Auguste kept throwing glances towards a pretty serving girl, and eventually he leaned down to whisper something into Laurent’s ear.

Laurent rolled his eyes and then in an instant his manner shifted to something like fury.

Damen nearly dropped his wine when Laurent slapped Auguste over the face. The slap echoed through the suddenly silent room.

“Filthy painted slut!” Laurent cried out, jerking to his feet while Auguste looked at him with wide-eyed contrition. “How dare you make eyes at someone else while you belong to me! Sleep in the stables tonight, so you remember your place.”

Laurent threw a hot glance at Damen. “Come, Lamen. Attend me.”

Damen followed in a daze, shocked at what had just happened.

“Laurent,” he hissed once they were in the privacy of their room. “What the hell was that?”

“Please,” Laurent said with a pointed eye roll, starting to unlace one of his sleeves. “He’s as happy as a pig rolling in shit. And that serving girl he’s been eyeing will feel like a goddess when she succeeds in seducing an unattainable pet.”

“Oh,” Damen managed. He wasn’t sure if he was too drunk for this or not drunk enough.

“I really did need you attend me,” Laurent said, turning. The laces of his jacket were done up in the back.

Damen stepped forward and started to unpick the needlessly complicated things.

“Did you have to slap him?” Damen asked, thinking back to the livid handprint on Auguste’s beautiful face.

“You have no sense for drama,” Laurent said with a laugh. “He’ll act very put out for a little while, staring off into the distance while he strokes his cheek. She’ll come over to the table and offer him a cool cloth. He’ll be properly grateful. She’ll tell him in hushed tones what a cruel owner he has, and he’ll look up at her with his big blue eyes like a lost puppy.

“She’ll offer to take him to her rooms, for salve, or another cloth. And then he’ll pretend to be very scared before he kisses her, only to pull away and whisper- _ I shouldn’t, my contract…” _

Laurent’s voice was very low and intimate as he spoke and Damen couldn’t help flushing as he pictured Auguste together with the serving girl.

“She’ll convince him it’ll be their secret, of course,” Laurent continued. “He’ll act like he’s warring with himself, and then he’ll take her in his arms and kiss her, smudging all his carefully applied paint while she moans-”

“I get it,” Damen said, his voice coming out strangled. The laces were finally undone and he helped Laurent take the jacket off. The shirt he was wearing underneath was made of fine white linen, and while he stood in front of the fire Damen could make out the lean lines of his body.

“This whole thing is just to see how much you can embarrass me, isn’t it?”

Laurent laughed and went to the bed before dragging the blankets and pillows to the ground before the fire, making a cozy nest of sorts. He toed off his boots and made himself comfortable, reclining languidly with one knee up. In that moment he looked even more the picture of an expensive pet than Auguste had, the gold of his hair finer than any jewelry.

“Bring over the wine,” he said.

“I thought you didn’t drink,” Damen said as he brought the wine and joined him on the blankets.

“Prince Laurent of Vere doesn’t drink. But I am just a humble merchant.”

Laurent toasted him with a crooked smirk and drank straight from the bottle. The only thing that Damen could look at was his throat working. When he pulled back, a drop of wine slid down the neck of the bottle and he licked it away. Slowly, like he was putting on a show.

Damen’s pants felt awfully tight.

“Just you wait,” Laurent said. “He’ll give her the sapphire earring, too. He’ll say… _ if only it could have been different between us, _while gazing soulfully into her eyes. And later, when we leave Marlas to return to Arles, the royal procession will ride through this town. The people will throng the streets to see their king and their princes. And he’ll find her gaze in the crowd, and wink.”

“That’s-” Damen managed. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“You thought he was all sunshine and flowers?” Laurent asked.

“Yes,” Damen said. “And I thought you were made of ice.”

Laurent laughed. “Didn’t you know that Veretians are all vipers?”

“As far as deception and plots go, this one seems rather mild.”

“I’ll have to think of something more shocking,” Laurent said, eyes wide with fake innocence.

“Please don’t, my heart can’t take it.”

They drank for a while in companionable silence, and all Damen could think about was the strange golden princes. “Does he only like women, then?” Damen found himself asking.

Laurent looked at him sharply and Damen wasn’t sure what that meant.

“Mostly,” Laurent said. “Do you want him?”

“I-”

“I’ll bet you five gold coins I can get him to suck your cock,” Laurent said with a smirk.

Damen choked on his wine for the second time that evening. “How will Auguste feel to know you’ve bartered him like that?”

“Used to it.”

Before Damen could quite wrap his mind around _ that, _the door opened and Auguste walked in, beaming like the sun.

Laurent quirked up his eyebrow at Damen as if to say, _ see? _“Happy as a pig rolling in shit,” he muttered. “How was she?” he asked, louder.

“Fantastic,” Auguste breathed out, dropping to the blanket on the other side of Damen. His paint was smudged. His earring was missing. He sprawled out with a pleased groan, pillowing his head on his arms and closing his eyes.

“I thought Veretian sensibilities meant you couldn’t fuck women,” Damen said.

“I didn’t fuck her,” Auguste said with a satisfied smile. “She used her mouth. So did I.”

“Oh, Auguste,” Laurent said in a dangerously innocent tone of voice.

Damen had a feeling he knew what was about to happen. He glared at Laurent, who only smirked back.

“I think Damen might enjoy a demonstration,” Laurent said. “Of your mouth.”

“Would he?” Auguste asked curiously, opening his eyes again to peer at Damen.

_ “Laurent,” _Damen hissed.

“I see he would,” Auguste said with a smile. “Alright.”

“Alright?” Damen sputtered. “What do you mean _ alright?” _

Except Auguste was moving to settle himself between Damen’s thighs.

“You owe me five gold coins,” Laurent said, reclining on his elbows as he watched.

“Five gold coins?” Auguste asked incredulously. “I’m much more expensive than that.”

“Not now you’ve cheated on your contract you aren’t,” Laurent countered dryly. “You’re lucky I’m not turning you out in disgrace.”

Damen breathed a sigh of relief as he realized this was all just some game. Except, no-

Auguste was unlacing his pants.

“Wait,” Damen said, his voice coming out strangled. “You’re serious?”

“Yes,” Auguste said.

“But-” he glanced up at Laurent, watching. Was he going to be… _ watching? _The whole time? While Auguste... “You- he’s-”

“If your delicate Akielon sensibilities can’t take it, I suppose we can just go to sleep,” Laurent said and took a lazy swig of wine.

“I-” Damen glanced between two pairs of expectant blue eyes. This was the chance of a lifetime. This was insane. This was-

“Consider it a cultural exchange,” Auguste asked, batting his eyelashes. “It’ll be good for the alliance between our countries to be comfortable with each other’s... sensibilities.”

Damen could only stare at him, baffled. Laurent snorted out a laugh. Damen stared at Laurent, baffled.

Laurent raised his eyebrows like a challenge and Damen sighed sharply. “Alright.”

Auguste grinned and cupped him through his pants. Damen shuddered, his eyes fluttering closed. He was very aware of Auguste pulling his cock out of his pants. He was even more aware of Laurent, watching.

“Oh,” Auguste said, and Damen looked down to see he was blushing brightly.

“What’s the matter?” Laurent asked. “Do you need instructions?”

“What do they _ feed _you in Akielos?” Auguste asked.

Damen wasn’t sure if he was mortified or turned on as Laurent shifted to get a good look at his cock. “I’ve seen bigger.”

_ “When?” _Auguste asked, completely scandalized.

“During the horse breeding season.”

Auguste laughed while Damen hid his face in his hands with a groan.

“Well don’t be a baby about it,” Laurent said. “Put it in your mouth. Do it like the serving girl did it to you, earlier.”

And then Auguste leaned down and took Damen by the hips, and engulfed his cock in his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” Damen shuddered, letting himself fall back into the blankets and throw a hand over his eyes. He thought he might pass out from the slick heat of Auguste’s- _ Auguste’s!- _ mouth on him. From the way Laurent watched, eyes never leaving Damen’s face.

Auguste didn’t rush but didn’t linger either, setting a steady pace and using his hand to grip the base of Damen’s cock, where he couldn’t reach with his mouth. Damen was lost in a haze of pleasure and vague disbelief until Laurent’s displeased voice cut through it like a knife.

“You’re going to make him come,” Laurent said.

Damen groaned in disappointment when Auguste pulled away to look at Laurent in confusion. “That is, generally, the point.”

“If he comes, how will he fuck me?”

“I see,” Auguste said. He seemed surprised. “I didn’t realize that was where this evening was going.”

“Is it? Damen?” Laurent asked. “Or did you only want Auguste?”

Damen blinked at the two of them slowly. “I- I do want…”

Auguste shrugged and sat back on his heels. “Have fun,” he said and kissed Laurent on the forehead with the same lips that had just been around Damen’s cock. “Try to keep it down. Wake me if I need to kill someone.”

With that he stood and walked over to the bed, flopping bonelessly into whatever sheets were left.

“Are you disappointed?” Laurent asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he moved closer and braced himself above Damen.

“No,” Damen said. He felt shaken down to his core and more turned on than he’d ever been in his life. He raised his hand to brush the hair out of Laurent’s face.

Auguste had been game for a bit of meaningless fun, agreeing to suck Damen’s cock good-naturedly but in a way that ultimately meant nothing. Laurent, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to devour Damen, his eyes dark with desire. Damen pulled him down for a kiss.

Laurent made a small victorious sound against his lips and then their bodies were pressed flush together and Laurent’s hands were in Damen’s hair. They slotted so well against each other. Laurent was smaller and lithe, hot in his arms. Damen could hardly believe he’d ever thought Laurent was made of ice.

Damen rolled them over and Laurent shuddered. He shuddered harder when Damen took both his wrists in a firm grip and pushed them over his head, keeping them pressed to the floor. For all that he’d masterminded this whole thing, it seemed he enjoyed giving up control, too. Damen kissed Laurent’s neck slowly, mouthing at the pulse point where he could feel Laurent’s heart racing.

He kept going until Laurent was hard and shifting restlessly under him, trying to rut up against him. Suddenly having layers of cloth separating them seemed infuriating and Damen pulled back to yank off his shirt, and then did the same for Laurent.

“Laces,” Laurent said in a hushed voice, spreading his legs invitingly.

Damen grabbed Laurent by the hips and dragged him closer, watching the way Laurent’s eyelashes fluttered and his lips parted around a soft gasp. He liked being manhandled.

“Help me,” Damen whispered. While Laurent got his laces open Damen let his hands roam freely, stroking his smooth white skin, caressing his invitingly pink nipples. He was a vision, flushed and disheveled over the blankets.

Once the laces were open Damen yanked Laurent’s pants off and flipped him over easily, glorying in Laurent’s shocked gasp.

“Do you have oil?” Damen murmured into his ear. Laurent nodded, pointing vaguely to his discarded pants, and Damen rooted through the pockets before he found the vial.

He made quick work of slicking his fingers and draped himself over Laurent’s back as he pushed his thighs open with his knees and slipped his hand down to stroke him. He pushed a finger inside while Laurent shuddered under him, his body relaxing as he opened easily. The slide was smooth, and soon enough Damen added another finger.

“Do you do this often?” Damen whispered with a chuckle while Laurent hid his face against the blanket, no doubt to hide his flush.

“Everyone knows Prince Laurent of Vere doesn’t take lovers,” he said, his voice muffled.

“But you’re just a humble merchant,” Damen said, punctuating his words by twisting his fingers just so.

Laurent made a small cry of pleasure that went straight to Damen’s cock as his body tensed only to relax all at once.

“Often enough,” Laurent breathed out in answer to the earlier question. “On my own.”

Damen had to close his eyes at the image of _ that. _Laurent, touching himself alone in his rooms, abandoned in pleasure where no one could see him. He pressed his cock against the back of Laurent’s thigh to try and get some relief, and added another finger.

Laurent was quiet but his pleasure was clear and Damen reveled in it- that he was the one to bring Laurent to this point, so close to losing control. At last he drew out his fingers and slicked up his cock, pulling Laurent’s hips up before sinking inside the tight heat of his body.

Laurent moaned, _ loudly, _ and abruptly Damen remembered that _ Auguste _was still in the room- asleep or simply ignoring them. Damen bit his lip, flushing at the thought. For some reason the blow job from earlier seemed different. That had been a tease, a bit of fun. A game.

In some strange way it had felt like having sex with _Laurent,_ even though it was Auguste’s mouth that had been on him.

This, now, was something else. Damen didn’t want Auguste to be privy to this, a desire that went beyond the part where he’d said _ wake me if I need to kill anyone. _ Damen was smart enough to know that _ anyone _included him.

“Can you be quiet for me?” Damen whispered.

Laurent laughed, breathy and low. “Make me.”

“Alright,” Damen said, and moved to cover Laurent’s mouth with his hand. Laurent melted into his touch and Damen smiled, pressing wet kisses to the back of his shoulder. “Tap me if you want me to let go or stop.”

Lauren made a muffled sound that nevertheless managed to sound indignant and reached back to grab Damen’s thigh, holding tight and pulling him forward.

Damen started to thrust. It was slow at first, but at Laurent’s encouragement he sped up until his heart was racing. The muffled sounds Laurent was making made his blood boil with lust. Laurent moved with him and Damen could feel the tension growing in his body as he got closer to the edge. Damen held him tighter and had to close his eyes when Laurent reached down to touch himself.

He came with a gasp that sounded loud even with Damen’s hand over his mouth, and the way his body pulsed and tightened had Damen spilling too. For a moment Damen let himself just breathe, and then he carefully pulled away.

Laurent looked over at him with a dazed smile and Damen couldn’t help leaning over to kiss him. He was pliant and sweet post orgasm, relaxed in a way that seemed bone deep. He was perfect.

“I think I might be in trouble,” Damen whispered. “Now that I’ve gotten involved with you.”

“I think you’ve been in trouble for a while now,” Laurent agreed.

They snickered until a pillow flew off the bed and hit Damen in the face.

“Shut up,” Auguste groaned, “I’m asleep.”

They only laughed harder.

* * *

Damen wasn’t sure what had woken him, but he trusted his gut and sat up, his heart pounding. It was still dark out, though he could tell the sky was slowly starting to lighten with the dawn. Auguste was awake too, standing at the window as he peered through a gap in the curtains.

“What is it?” Damen whispered.

“Our father’s men. They’re searching the town.”

Damen shook Laurent awake before hastily getting dressed.

“It’s too soon,” Laurent said, disgruntled and sleep-mussed. “It’s all your fault, Auguste.”

“How is it my fault?” Auguste asked, getting dressed in riding leathers and buckling his sword belt around his waist. He slung one of their bags over his shoulder and tossed a second to Damen.

Laurent pulled on his boots and tied up his trousers, leaving the rest of his clothing unlaced in favor of taking the third bag. “One of your lovers probably came looking for you in the middle of the night and raised the guards when she found you missing.”

“Darling, you’ve met me,” Auguste said with a crooked smile. “If you didn’t factor that possibility into your plans, then that’s on you.”

“We could just let them find us,” Damen said. Both brothers turned on him with identical scowls and he threw his hands up placatingly.

There were footsteps thundering up the steps.

“Come on,” Auguste said, throwing open the door to the balcony. There was another balcony beside it and he seemed to contemplate the distance before shaking his head. “Damen. Give me a boost.”

Damen cupped his hands together and Auguste stepped up, grabbing for the edge of the roof and pulling himself up and over. Laurent went next, Auguste taking his hand to help him up. And then Auguste was grabbing Damen too, and the three of them were up and running, jumping from roof to roof in the pre-dawn light as they headed towards the edge of the city.

Veretian soldiers streamed through the streets below, accompanied by smaller groups of Akielons. They roused the townsfolk, banging on doors and asking if they’d seen anything suspicious. Laurent snickered and used his toe to push a shingle out of place. It slid down the roof to shatter on the ground and the soldiers looked around wildly. One of them must have caught sight of the three princes because they raised a shout-

“On the roofs!”

_ “Laurent,” _ Auguste hissed, grabbing him by the hand to drag him onwards.

“It’s no fun if they’re not chasing us,” Laurent said breathlessly and Damen had to stifle a laugh. 

Auguste led the way to a lower building and climbed nimbly down a drainpipe before catching Laurent, who’d simply jumped down the roof after him. Damen followed, carefully, as the drainpipe groaned under his weight.

Laurent stole a length of cloth off a clothesline and wrapped it around himself like a shawl. Without skipping a beat, Auguste flicked a coin through the open window the clothesline had been suspended from. They ran for a while through twisting alleys until they reached a larger manor house and climbed through the window into the attached stable.

Auguste and Damen saddled a pair of horses while Laurent pulled a second sapphire earring out of his pocket and left it conspicuously near the water trough.

By silent agreement Laurent sat behind his brother in the saddle and then they were off.

“Follow me,” Damen said in a burst of inspiration, turning them to the north.

Delpha had been part of Akielos not too long ago. And before that- Vere and Akielos had been one kingdom, Artes. Damen had been fascinated with the ancient tales as a child, had spent countless hours in the library pouring over the ancient maps.

The ruins of the Artesian capital were nearby, and not marked on any map created in the past two centuries. No one would find them there.

Once they weren’t concerned with being discovered they slowed and took an easier pace, and Damen looked over to see that Laurent was asleep draped over Auguste’s back. Auguste smiled at him, wide and open, and Damen smiled back boyishly.

They reached the ruins by midday and let the horses graze freely as they took down their packs and lunched on bread and hard cheese.

Afterwards they explored the ruins together, pointing out all the strange similarities they found. The architecture was Akielon, the relief carvings reminiscent of Vere. There were large overgrown gardens and pillars of white stone jutting into the sky. There were pools too, hot springs that smelled strongly of minerals.

“Just like home,” Auguste said, peeling himself out of his clothes. Damen joined him joyfully, eager to bathe after a long night and day spent traipsing around. He groaned as he sank into the water, his muscles unknotting.

Laurent made himself comfortable in the shade of a tree with a book, and although Damen wished he were closer he didn’t dare disturb him.

He swam for a bit, and then settled on a ledge beside Auguste.

“I’m not used to having so much leisure time,” he shared quietly.

Auguste laughed. “If it helps, neither am I. The duties of being a Crown Prince.”

“We could wrestle again,” Damen suggested with a smirk.

“Heaven forbid,” Auguste said. At Damen’s inquisitive look he smiled. “I’ve been forbidden from sparring with you again.”

“How did your father even find out?” Damen asked.

Auguste laughed again, warm like the sun. “You should know by now it’s not my father who holds the end of my leash.” He glanced over at Laurent, studiously ignoring the both of them.

“You know,” Auguste said thoughtfully, “I was seventeen when I first visited Marlas.”

“Oh?” Damen asked.

“Oh,” Auguste said with a smile that quickly turned wicked. “Laurent was five then- sweet but not very interesting. Too young for mischief. So I disguised myself as a peasant and snuck over the border to Akielos alone. It was my first time with a woman. Her name was Thisbe. She had beautiful brown curls and breasts that fit perfectly in my hands. She was so hot and eager against me. She looked at me like I was something beautiful.”

“You are,” Damen said despite himself, “something beautiful.” It suddenly seemed tragic that Auguste might doubt that. He wanted Auguste to know. Needed him to know.

Auguste smiled, not looking at him. “She said the most curious thing. She said I kissed like a Veretian. Do Akielons kiss differently?”

“I’m not sure,” Damen said. “Perhaps.”

“Perhaps you’ll teach me,” Auguste said, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned closer.

Damen blinked slowly, surprised. He’d- he and Laurent had-

Auguste _ knew. _Did they share lovers? Was that another Veretian thing that Damen didn’t quite understand? He wasn’t sure what to do, but Auguste was smiling at him, and he knew Auguste would never hurt Laurent. And a selfish part of him recognized the opportunity for what it was. He was curious to kiss Auguste, to see what it was like to claim his lips.

“Teaching you wouldn’t be a hardship,” Damen said, leaning in.

There was a splash of water, and then Laurent was behind Auguste, clapping his hands over Auguste’s mouth with a frown. He was naked now too, and Damen wondered how he hadn’t noticed him getting undressed.

“Stop it,” Laurent said. “I’ve decided I don’t want to share him with you.”

Damen laughed and reached past Auguste to kiss Laurent over his shoulder. Even a day ago doing something like that would have been unthinkable. Now it was easy.

No matter how lovely Auguste was, Damen was glad that Laurent didn’t want to share. Auguste winked like maybe that had been his plan all along.

“Maybe you should go off and find us some dinner,” Laurent said haughtily. “We can’t just eat bread all the time. It’s getting stale.”

“Yes sir,” Auguste said, and splashed him in the face before rising from the water and striding off.

Laurent slipped into Damen’s lap and they kissed for a while, sweet and easy. Damen wrapped a hand around both their cocks and Laurent shuddered, tucking his face against his neck with a quiet moan.

“You’re so perfect,” Damen whispered in his ear. “You feel so good against me. I love the sounds you make-”

Laurent came with a gasp and Damen followed soon after, still smiling.

They rose afterwards, and got dressed. There was a place where the ruins formed a sort of cave that they’d decided to make their camp for the time being. Damen started a fire while Laurent laid out their bedding. Auguste returned with a pair of rabbits and prepared them for cooking at the edge of the firelight.

Damen watched, mildly impressed. He’d never had to do such things for himself, being a prince. But Auguste was quick and sure, and soon enough they had two rabbits roasting over a spit.

They ate in quiet companionship, both giving Laurent the choicest bits of meat without question.

“I’d like to explore more tomorrow,” Laurent said, leaning his head against Damen’s shoulder.

The smile Auguste shot him in response was fond and loving.

“Of course,” Auguste said.

“Whatever you like,” Damen added.

Laurent smiled, sleepy and sweet. He yawned, and went over to his bedroll.

“I never thought he’d-” Auguste whispered and broke off, laughing quietly.

“What?” Damen asked, just as quietly.

Auguste grinned a drew a knee up, wrapping his arm around it and resting his chin on his knee as he stared into the fire. “Trust anyone,” he said quietly. “The way he trusts me. If you let us down, I’ll-”

“Kill me,” Damen finished for him, not feeling particularly threatened. “I know.”

“Good,” Auguste said, just as happy delivering death threats as he had been flirting with the tavern girl. “Good night, Damianos.”

“Good night,” Damen said. “Auguste.”

* * *

They spent a glorious week at the ruins before Laurent deemed it was time for them to return. First he collected all their clothes and dumped them in the dirt, stomping around on top of them for a while before returning them.

“We’ve had a very rough go of it,” Laurent said. “Try not to look too relaxed.”

After they were dressed Laurent inspected their clothing and rubbed dirt into their hair and faces, and ripped Damen’s shirt so the neck of it gaped open. Damen raised an eyebrow while Laurent blushed and looked away.

“It’s just for show,” Laurent said.

“Of course,” Damen said.

“At this rate we’ll never get back,” Auguste teased good-naturedly.

Damen felt bereft as they went to track down the horses. Laurent settled behind Auguste and they were off.

They ran into a mixed troop of Akielon and Veretian soldiers by mid afternoon and Laurent made a show of waving them over.

“Thank goodness we’re saved!” he said while Damen fought to keep a straight face, greeting his own men.

Two of the Veretians, both wearing the golden starburst of the Prince’s Guard, seemed more annoyed than anything else as Auguste greeted them.

“Jord, Orlant,” Auguste said, holding out his hand for them to clasp.

“Your highness,” Jord said, looking at him in suspicion. “How… fortunate that you’re unharmed. I take it you… escaped.”

“Yes,” Auguste said.

Jord waited expectantly. Auguste raised his eyebrows and said nothing. The moment stretched awkwardly and Damen cleared his throat to break it.

“Shouldn’t we be getting back now?” he asked mildly. “I’m sure our fathers are worried sick.”

They sent ahead a messenger to the fort and one of the Akielon soldiers gave up his horse so Laurent could ride. Someone gave Damen their cloak to cover up his peasant garb. The ride back to Marlas was fairly jovial, the soldiers relieved that their princes had been found whole and hale.

Damen was surprised to see Theomedes standing next to Aleron at the top of the main steps. His face lit up when he saw Damen riding into the courtyard. Damen felt a little guilty as he took the steps three at a time to embrace his father. He looked so relieved. And also-

“Are you drunk?” Damen asked incredulously, pulling back.

“My son,” Theomedes said, slurring his words a little. He patted Damen’s face like he couldn’t quite believe he was real. Beside them Laurent and Auguste were greeting Aleron, who was also most certainly drunk. Had the two kings been drinking together?

It was an impossible thought. Except Aleron was _ smiling _as he turned and put a hand on Theomedes’ shoulder.

“I told you, brother- I told you they’d return safe and sound.”

_ Brother? _

Laurent looked at Damen over his shoulder and smirked.

“Auguste,” Aleron said. “What happened?”

Auguste turned to Laurent. Laurent turned to Damen.

“Damen, won’t you tell them how we escaped?” Laurent asked innocently.

“I-” Damen flushed. “Laurent distracted the guards and- Auguste and I- we- we got loose from our bonds-”

“No need to be so humble,” Laurent said, batting his eyelashes. “Why- when one of those filthy monsters laid hands on me Damen tore through the ropes with sheer overwhelming strength! He was like a giant animal, ripping through their camp-”

Auguste’s lips thinned into a tight line as he fought back a laugh.

“Come,” Theomedes said, wrapping one arm around Damen’s shoulder and the other around Laurent’s. “Tell us all of it. We’ll call for more wine.”

“More wine!” Aleron said cheerfully and mussed Auguste’s hair.

They spent the rest of the evening getting shockingly drunk and telling tall tales and in the end it was Laurent who helped Damen stagger back to his rooms. He pushed Damen to the bed with a laugh before climbing on after him.

“And you said it wouldn’t work,” he teased.

_ fin. _

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at [barbitone](http://barbitone.tumblr.com/) and pillowfort also at [barbitone](https://www.pillowfort.io/barbitone)


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